The Secret Life of the Transfiguration Mistress
by WineChocolate
Summary: People: Can you read the title? Let me introduce you to: Hot Dumbledore, a nosy and scorching Slythering Idiot and young temptress Minerva! The pic below is the current image of the Headmistress just smirking at all of us. Drum roll please? Starring in: "The Secret Life of the Transfiguration Mistress." Can you see the pictures? A collaboration between Madie080802 and Noppoh.


**Disclaimer: Neither of us own Harry Potter. We own the books and we are grateful that JKR is such a classy lady to let us play with her characters. The plotline is ours though. Oh and Ernest, was the first name that came to our mind, however, we would love to play with him a little more if he was real. -Sighs-**

 **A.N.: We wrote this fic in a crazy 72 hours. What started out as a fun (and wicked) idea, turned into a plot bunny and developed into this One-Shot. I really hope you will like it. Happy reading!**

Once again in glory, the castle was standing tall. The war had ended three years ago, 1998 had been a dark year. The year 2001 was still unbelievable, at least to the staff, it was. It had been a couple of years since the repairs, and volunteers had finalized the job and exited the halls.

It took twenty-four months after repairs, for the new ministry to gain the trust back. It took that period of time for the parents of both mundanes and old magical families to decide, and let the children of the British Isles, along with Ireland and Scotland return to the institution that Hogwarts School of Wizardry represented.

 **Headmistress chambers.**

Minerva McGonagall stands in front of her vanity mirror and she sights."One more day", the woman said to the reflection in the mirror. "I can't believe I survived this long." Looking at her room and speaking as though the place was sentient, she added: "Tell me again, why did I accept this job as a headmistress?" She smiled and continued getting ready.

Looking through her jewelry box, she made sure that the glamour charm was in place. She smiled to herself. Her aging glamour had never faltered. It was a little secret. Albus knew, but then again, Albus Dumbledore had his secrets and became exposed by that jackal Rita, not her.

She wasn't an idiot, and after the day had run its course she would get back to her jewelry box and work on her script. She opened the secret drawer in the box, and admired the heavy stack of parchment concealed in it. Ms. Granger wasn't the only one who knew about extension charms.

She looked behind her back. Merlin forbid anyone should find these memoirs before she passed away. The shock would be too much. Minerva smiled at her reflection. Marauders and Weasleys. It was no mistake, they all were Gryffindors.

Many would wonder, why the subterfuge, an aging charm. The charm had its uses, and for most of the time it was on her, so her former students would not recognize her, and in consequence, her newest students would not be distracted.

Oh, she was not the old crone that many described, she was indeed the prim and proper lady, while in professor McGonagall's or the headmistress character. She had to be convincing, she was an exemplary woman, a fighter, a brilliant warrior, and a lover of Quidditch, but there were facets of her that remained a mystery. Above all, she was a Gryffindor.

Looking back to the old parchment, a name was clearly defined by her loopy calligraphy: "Ernest Finch-Fletchley". Minerva quietly laughed, she nodded and said to herself: "Oh Ernest, why couldn't you keep your antics to yourself?"

Minerva looked at the pictures and there was one that always captured her sight. Her mother had been a breathtakingly beautiful woman. On her mother's line there was a magical creature blood. But no one talked about such a thing. Well Minerva couldn't hide her ascendance, and her parents realized that their daughter was going to have a lot of trouble, once she reached Hogwarts.

Minerva's parents decided to craft a charm to hide their daughter's blood and appearance, and in that she was sorted as a plain girl, with a thick scottish accent and a latent talent for transfiguration, plus being a swot.

Then there was Ernest Finch Fletchley. Finch, as she called him, was the boy that decided to make Minerva's time in Hogwarts hell. It seemed to Minerva, that Finch had no reason for living, until he met her, and decided to harass her to the point of tears, tears of rage on her part. It was only by accident that Ernest Finch Fletchley uncovered her secret.

Minerva smiled to herself and admits. "Everybody was supposed to be asleep, even the house elves." It was shortly after Hagrid had his wand snapped. She was going through sixth year, it had been a tough week. That evening she had finished her rounds, and decided to go for a swim in the prefects bathroom. Her magic manifested only in transfiguration.

Professor Dumbledore was quite fascinated with her progress, and after a very long day, she turned to her safe haven. It had been near impossible to take off her glamour. Minerva was more that used to her glamour face, it felt like a good blanket, but Merlin!, there were some days in which she just wanted to let her magical blood to be set free.

She arrived to the prefect's bathroom, set her toiletries, and after she removed her entire set of clothes, she took a dip in the pool, and set her glamour aside. She was swimming, and she emerged from the water to breathe, then someone greeted her with a sharp intake of air.

Finch was there. The very bastard that always made fun of her accent, and the one that she got back at by besting him in all subjects. Only Tom Riddle had better scores than her, but he was Head Boy, and on his way out. But this bastard Finch Fletchley actually sneaked up on her and had a camera. Well the snake was going to get the full picture.

She swam to the steps of the pool, covered in suds, and then with all the grace of a water Nymph, she walked out. The look on Finch's face was almost comical. If he had expected her to be shy and turn away, he had been very, very wrong. She could feel her blood heating as she walked over to the gaping boy, her hips swaying. She plucked the camera out of his unresisting hands. He was staring at her breasts, so she put her hands behind her back. The poor boy almost fainted, ooh, she would teach him.

"Wanted to take a picture? In need of something to occupy your mind as you wank off at night?" She trailed her finger over the buttons of his shirt. At that point, he did actually faint.

As Finch lost consciousness, Minerva laughed, and professor Dumbledore stepped out of the shadows and said:

"I knew it, you are part Selkie, aren't you?"

Minerva gaped, Dumbledore knew? Professor Dumbledore blushed. She raised her chin in defiance. There she stood, as graceful as a ballerina and fierce as a feline ready to attack, but then something hit her, he was blushing, but he wasn't aroused, like that perv Finch was.

She thought to herself: "Oh my God! Dumbledore is gay, well what do you know?" She kept observing and concluded: "I guess everybody is entitled to their secrets."

She smiled and decided to make him more uncomfortable. Gay or not, he had still intruded to the prefect's bathroom, when the portrait hiding it, informed him that it was occupied by a girl. Just as she was smiling, she lowered her gaze and looked at the spoil lying on the floor, and noticed he had a massive erection. Finch was out, but his cock was tenting, her magical blood was still in charge.

"How to go about it" Minerva wondered, she smiled to herself and questioned without words: "Wanted to perv on us, did you?"

Minerva waved a hand and in a feat of wandless magic, she banished Finch Fletchley's clothes and damn, the boy could have been Priapus god of fertility, if in fact he wasn't such a tosser on a regular basis, and displayed a bit more kindness.

"Oh well, no sense in wishing for the impossible." On the other hand, she thought: "What would be the best way to embarrass a nosey, old wrench goat of teacher in this process?" She breathed in silence, and then added to the professor:

"We really should take care of this..." Waving her hand vaguely to the perv. She looked Dumbledore dead in the eye and gave him a suggestive look, like the one depicted as the epitome of the classic haughty nymph. "You got any ideas?"

Dumbledore stammered before composing himself. "We should get him to Madam Pomfrey."

She inquired: "Naked?" She did a double take on Finch and then added: "If you think that would make Madam Pomfrey happy?"

The elder replied: "Euhm, no, no, not naked."

Minerva started toying with her hair, shifting her weight, trying to seem indecisive. From the corner of her eye she could see Dumbledore was having trouble ignoring the nude and very good looking idiot on the floor.

She crouched next to Finch. "Perhaps we should wake him?" She glanced over to Dumbledore and in a whisper said: "Creatively?"

She wet her lips as she reached out the perv's massive boner. She heard the transfiguration teacher say: "No!" She inquired, in a low tone a voice: "No?"

Silence and then "No," Dumbledore repeated, more evenly this time. "You should not do that." "Why?" Minerva asked innocently. "You want to do it yourself?"

Finch came around and saw a woman, and not just any woman, the wet dream of any hot blooded male. She looked at him, and in her dark gaze, he recognized McGonagall. He became quite pale and started shivering, then he noticed, his clothing was missing. His willie was out, and she, wait.. she was looking up... Oh please, -Ernest pled in silence to the gods.- Please don't let it be Dumbledore.

Ernest looked up, and he felt like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. The goddess on his side took pity and spoke: "Ernest, I'll make you a deal? You can take a picture of me and I'll take a picture of your penis? Or you can get up, put your clothes back on and forget about this incident, and leave me alone?, or I'll just let professor Dumbledore take you to madam Pomfrey, so they can administer a deflating drought?... which will it be Finch?"

"I rather be Obliviated," answered Finch.

Minerva and Albus raised an eyebrow and Ernest added: "This is my worst case scenario, naked, aroused, embarrassed and in the same room with the two people I cannot have..."

"Excuse me?!" Dumbledore cried out, eyes wide. Minerva only smirked. So, he swings both ways, she thought. This is going to be fun!

"Did I say that out loud? Oh no, I did not want to say that out loud!" Finch groaned.

He tried to get up, but Minerva's slender hand pushed him back down. She could feel her magic building up, weaving into the minds and bodies of the two men present.

She leaned in, to whisper in his ear "Perhaps you should try to get what you want, instead of simply dreaming about it." She threw a meaningful look at Dumbledore, who was turning redder by the second and shuffling to the door.

Looking Finch in the eye, she gave him a mental push. Some extra encouragement, as it were. He got up, yelped when she gave him a little pad on his ass, and sauntered to the flustered professor.

Ernest was shivering, but never in a lifetime, did he ever thought possible, being so close to his dream, or was it nightmare?. He was attracted to the Gryffs and Nimue's tit, they held a fire that usually gave him pain. He couldn't say that he liked to swing both ways, so what did he do instead? He made McGonagall cry. Now, with trembling hands, he reached out to the robes on Albus and held onto him as though it was for life, and hugged him, and then, the miracle happened, professor Dumbledore hugged him back.

Ernest realized his scent was heady, his skin seemed as though laboured through the sun, being so close to the flames, yes, Ernest wanted to be enveloped in his fire. So he kissed his chest, just where his heart was. Dumbledore trembled back, in a personal fight with himself. "Let go, release his body," said his mind, but his treacherous body was not listening.

Ernest felt Dumbledore's erection tent and then he realized, clothes, his clothes were in his way, he lifted his mouth and captured his lips, and oh god!, he tasted just as sherbert lemon, his favorite sweet.

Minerva snapped her fingers, and Albus Dumbledore was hit by the heat of a younger body, and the kiss of a rebellious teenager. Ernest kissed like a man possessed.

Albus thought: "Merlin!, has it been that long since I received a kiss?" His mind argued: "No, Ernest had to be stopped, I'm the adult... yes, Miss McGonagall has every right to be angry, I was just doing my job trying to get Finch out of the prefect's bathroom, while the Gryffindor prefect was using it... it was a trap. Tom Riddle got me again, and I have to..." Albus sighed in relief. Ernest had found his erection, and was now stroking him. The anguish and desire continued fighting within the transfiguration teacher's mind.

Minerva reached Ernest and kissed his back. Ernest felt those soft and tender kisses on his shoulder blades. His mind was melting. This had to be a dream. Her hands roamed his back slipping to the front. He could feel her breasts push against his back, as he pressed herself flat against him. Momentarily he forgot how to breathe. This felt better that he could ever imagine.

Noticing Dumbledore was still resisting his need, Minerva stepped closer. She smiled as she heard Ernest's breath hitch. Snaking her hands around him, she caressed Dumbledore's shoulders and let her fingers smooth out the skin so safely guarded by robes. Well not tonight. Dumbledore shivered under her touch. She caressed his neck, down his chest and towards both the men's erections.

"Go for it Ernest" She whispered in the boy's ear, he was obviously the easiest to influence. "Take what you want, he's here, he wants you to show him how much you want him"

Dumbledore shivered under her warm touch. Minerva took a step back. She watched the scene unfold, and the expression on Dumbledore was priceless, as he too, witnessed her magic, unable to resist. Dumbledore naked was a sight of masculine beauty at its best.

She said to herself. "Damn, he looks good for a 50 year old coot"

Minerva smiled, as she noticed the restrained response on Albus. He was trying to break from her enchantment. She walked up to him and couldn't resist running her hands all over him, even though she knew it did nothing for him.

Leaning into his ear, she added in a whisper: "Look at him?, So young, so beautiful. Don't you want him?, you do, don't you?"..."Badly even, he wants you too, can you not feel his hands going through your skin, your body? His deft grip holding your cock?. Let go, there is nothing wrong with this, this is right. You want it, so take it. No one will ever know."

Dumbledore shuddered. She could feel his magic flaring to life as he furiously answered the boy's kiss, his arms wrapping about his body. A moan could be heard escaping Finch. Her own magic was pulsing. Yes! This is what she wanted! Finally she could be herself, no more hiding. She suppressed a laugh, and decided to join in on the fun.

"Crouch down and suck his dick," she ordered Dumbledore.

He promptly did as he was told, and she stepped behind him, capturing Ernest lips, her hands caressing his chest, and leading him on, taking a hold of his hands and placing them on her breast. Ernest moaned again, apparently Dumbledore knew what he was doing. She threw her head back, revelling in all the sexual tension that was in the air, just like a song.

Minerva felt Ernest's lips on her skin. She felt the motion of Albus sucking Finch's stiff member and if it was to be a secret?, she was going to make the secret stick to their memories. Dumbledore felt Finch's breath hitch in desperation. Minerva reached his mouth, and started to investigate the flavour of him. He tasted like clove honey and lemon. Dumbledore loved lemon sherbets, oh well, one of the perks of being a seductress. She kissed his neck, and Ernest began tearing, the pleasure was too much, his heart was being exorcised from his prejudice, while in his soul, both his lovers lips imprinted.

Ernest could not fathom his change of fortune. He was allowed to caress the goddess' breasts, couldn't believe the exquisite feeling of Dumbledore's mouth around his cock, the softness of Minerva's lips against his skin. Minerva then bit down on his neck, and with a cry his world exploded. Thank Merlin for Dumbledore's strong grip on his hips, otherwise he would have collapsed in a heap. He could feel all of his seed being swallowed.

Dumbledore rose, and Minerva stepped away. The older man was still keeping him steady, and he leaned into him, trying to catch his breath. Dumbledore's lips found his, and he could taste his own semen. He didn't mind, hell, he actually liked it.

Minerva smiled at the look of utter bliss that currently graced Finch's face. She also realised he would be out for the time being. But no worries, there was still someone else to please. Stepping around the both of them, Minerva pressed herself against Dumbledore's back. Reaching around, she placed a hand on his chest, drawing patterns with her nails, and used the other to caress his now very, very hard erection.

Dumbledore shuddered, moaned, and fervently resumed kissing Finch. The younger boy didn't seem to mind. She gently ran her fingers up and down Dumbledore's shaft, teasing him but not letting him get anywhere near completion. The man started squirming in response, becoming impatient.

Momentarily breaking her teasing of the man, she reached out for his younger lover's crotch. Feeling that he was getting hard again, she smiled. Now she, too, could get her fill. Abandoning Dumbledore, she walked back around to Finch.

"You want to fuck me, don't you?" she whispered in his ear.

The boy could do nothing more but nod enthusiastically.

"Step back."

He did as he was told. Dumbledore looked put out by losing his toy, but he watched her curiously. She winked at him, and bend over, her hands on his hips, her butt high in the air. She licked him from base to tip, shortly taking him into her mouth. He moaned and instinctively buried his hands in her hair. Seductively, she looked over her shoulder.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked Finch, before returning her attention to the delicious dick in front of her. She moaned herself as she felt Finch bury himself deep inside her.

Ernest never believed that dreams come true, plus being obsessed with McGonagall had always annoyed him, made him wonder if he was cursed, otherwise why feel so attracted to the swot? This acknowledgement caused much confusion, since day one. Dumbledore on the other hand seemed unreachable. The man was like Excalibur, legendary and unattainable, Ernest hated the fact that the two belonged to the house of Gryffindor, because it only added to the burden of being in love with a plain swot and a powerful wizard, the two of them untouchable and unaware of how much it hurt to yearn for them.

So he did the next best thing, he became the thorn on McGonagall's shoe, and a proud pureblood elitist to ruffle Dumbledore's feathers, the wizard in question was, after all, the one that defeated Grindelwald.

Then he found himself staring at a nymph emerging from the prefects bathing pool, and all started to make sense, her dark eyes, her fair skin, her beautiful long black hair, her features, not to mention her body, the same as her name's sake, Minerva goddess of wisdom and war, and she was angry, and all he could think of was: "How can I be such an idiot?"

The goddess spoke, in such derision that made him realize that he would die if she actually touched him. She did, and her magic was like a bolt of energy, and he fainted. He opened his eyes and she was smiling at him. Her words weaved desire, and desire turned to need, Ernest found himself obeying her voice and his need to express the repressed feelings he developed for McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore.

Minerva tasted as crystallized oranges and Albus of Honey and lemons, they both smelled like incense, wax and parchment, the more he kissed, the less satisfaction he felt, he was hungry for them, crazy, and the desire was slowly eroding all his prejudice. Ernest had always treated them like dirt under his shoe, and now the two of them were sharing skin, heat, madness with him, and all he could do was cry, the pleasure of dreams becoming real had the power of a spiritual awakening, and just like a newborn babe his lament announced to the universe that he was alive.

Then Minerva smiled, while licking with such loving devotion the hard staff of Albus' dick, she added as though she was a toddler inviting another one to push on her swing: "What are you waiting for?" He found himself buried deep.

Minerva gasped, and Albus said to him: "Gently Ernest, she is still young, like a unicorn foal, curious and generous. Caress her back, feel her breasts, press your fingers through the tips, and lick her back, then thrust steady, enjoy and cherish her."

Minerva felt tears clouding her vision, and she resumed her oral touch to Dumbledore's impressive member, she fondled the skin of his testicles and then her tongue found his corona, and ultimately covered his erection with her lips, relaxed her jaw, breathing through her nose and bobbed. Albus began thrusting to, and she moaned, eliciting a reaction on both her lovers, the two of them, increased their tempo and Ernest's fingers found her mound, then the hood of her clit and started to rub.

Minerva jumped and Ernest knew this was a good thing, but asked: "Are you okay?" Minerva moaned again, and Ernest continued rubbing gently, but firmly, until her body started trembling, milking his cock, oh it was heaven. Albus could not hold on and said to Minerva:

"I'm going to come, let go." Minerva denied and pushed a finger into his rectum and rolled it, and Albus shattered, in a roar of liquid madness, and just behind him Ernest met up. Minerva felt trapped by the arms of strong lovers, the experience on one, and the enthusiasm on the other. The motion of desire, like jellyfish on the ocean, propelling an organism towards light, from the depths, into the fire of the sun, in sweat and tears, in body fluids and the fragrance of the sea, the three of them in simultaneous bliss.

The three shared a bath, and took turns making love to each other, by the end, Albus and Minerva had transfigured a bed on the prefect's bath, and were holding and stroking one another.

Ernest was still very emotional, and both Albus and Minerva understood now, where all the animosity originated. Ernest did not want to let go of either of them, but the transfiguration teacher and McGonagall knew that the relation could not be formalized. It broke Minerva's heart to see Ernest cry like a wounded pup, and it made her realized how very delicate the balance of love and desire was in all relationships; sex was a weapon that wounded both the giver and the recipient, if there was a feeble base, from the start. It was then that Ernest said in a defeated tone of voice:

"I'm sorry Minerva, I'm so sorry I was bonafide prick to you… I couldn't understand for a long time why. Now I do, I fell in love with you, I fell in love with both of you." Tears were rolling over his cheeks. "You made me so happy, and I will forever be grateful for that, but I cannot pretend this didn't happen, continue as though I hate you both"… "Because I don't"…. "You did gave me a choice earlier tonight, you can take the picture of my dick, and I can take the picture of you to… we can make it as though I won a stupid trivia deal, and professor you can hide your face… and after all this pointless conversation… just obliviate me… because knowing that I had you, and then I lost you… it's just too much, so please, have mercy on me?"

Minerva cried: "I'm so sorry Ernest, I should have just punched you, and then maybe tried to drown you, and then sent you back into the snake's den"

Ernest laughed and sobbed again. Dumbledore kissed him, and then Minerva, and then he questioned Ernest: "Are you sure about this Ernest?"

Finch-Fletchley nodded and added: "Yeah, it's for the greater good."

Dumbledore's breath hitched, but then accepted. He raised his wand and said: "Obliviate!"

A couple of days later, Finch was again having breakfast in the great hall when a package materialized in front of him. Riddle tried snatching it, but got a burn for his attempt, and made all the gryffs laugh at his face of shock. Finch read the note: _"For your eyes only Finch, happy belated birthday!... M and A."_ Finch smiled, got up, went to the bathroom, and opened in the stall. "Oh my fucking god!" Followed by: "Woohoo! I won, I won, I won!" Once he got back to the great hall, several of his peers looked in wonder. He just shrugged and resumed eating.

On the other side of the hall, two Gryffindors acquired a lovely shade of crimson on their complexions. McGonagall though was quite taken with the book she was reading. Of course she was looking at the picture of Ernest Finch-Fletchley's award winning dick, but no one knew, except for the old goat with twinkling blue eyes, at the staff table. But again, like she said, everybody is entitled to their secrets.


End file.
